What does it take to be a rider who gets the best out of most horses? (And how long does it take to get there?)

[danhelm441]

After owning and competing on a goldie oldie through his final years, I’m now back in a position where I’m taking lessons on school horses. And all I can say is … it’s humbling! The school horses are saints and I appreciate them enormously. But it’s making me so, so conscious of my shortcomings as a rider—especially because I so frequently see the same horses ridden by others.

The last time I was in a lesson program like this, I was basically just 100% focused on not bouncing at walk, trot, and canter. I liked the “zippy” horses because they would go forward and let me focus on posting, or sitting the canter, without squeezing every stride. I laugh thinking about all the lessons I spent trying to urge a horse into a trot down the long side of the arena, because now I more often have the opposite problem!

This time around, I’m trying to put together courses, count strides, not leave any strides out or bury the horse into the jumps… and I like the SLOW kick-and-spur horses, because they give me more time to think, and because somewhere along the way I became a rider who makes all the horses want to shoot off like rockets. I see horses staying steady, straight and rhythmic for other riders, then the next week when I’m on that horse, we’re either too fast or too slow, usually too fast, and I never feel as though we meet the jumps right. I’m always ahead or behind. I keep waiting for that “aha” moment where I get it together, but it hasn’t happened yet!

My sweet old gelding and I generally didn’t place well in the long stirrup, and I used to think it was something about him conformationally or stylistically. Now I know it was me all along!

Cutting myself some slack, I came into riding as an adult, and I’ve only been jumping (like x-rails to 2ft) for about a year and a half. Is this a normal part of the learning curve? Is the “aha” moment just around the bend? In the meantime, I feel like such a nuisance to all these poor schoolies who see me coming and must think, “oh boy, time to gallop around like my tail’s on fire.”

[endlessclimb]

Normal! Just keep plinking away at it.

The “electric seat” is something you should work on though. I find it comes from pinching up high with the thighs and not following the horse’s motion with your hips well. Even with the dead heads, that electric seat has got to be aggravating.

[gertie06]

Totally normal, my friend. This sport is a master course in delayed gratification. Most professionals have ridden for decades, for multiple hours every day, on multiple horses every day. They say it takes 10,000 to become an expert in something, and I believe that’s just about what it takes to become a very good rider (and that’s only if you have good instruction and decent horses).

So your question is, “What does it take?” Practice, practice, practice, practice, and some more practice. While you’re at it, get fitter, watch good riders, watch the great masterclass videos, practice groundwork, heck…you could even go to shows and listen to trainers school their students in the schooling ring. It all depends on how dedicated you want to be.

And “How long does it take to get there?” Well, frankly, it takes forever. I’ve been riding 30+ years and I’m still a hot mess some days. But if your question is “How long until I can feel comfortable and consistent riding around a 2’ course?” That depends on how much saddle time you’re getting. How often do you get to ride? If you’re riding nearly every day, I’d say it’ll take about 6 months. If you’re riding once a week, it’s going to take a loooong time.

[gertie06]

@endlessclimb

The “electric seat” is something you should work on though. I find it comes from pinching up high with the thighs and not following the horse’s motion with your hips well. Even with the dead heads, that electric seat has got to be aggravating.

You think? I always assumed it was from sitting too heavy and slightly behind the motion.

[endlessclimb]

It’s just what I’ve found. I also suffer from electric seat syndrome, and when I consciously release my thighs completely and loosen my back/hips, the electricity from my bum seems to go away and the horse quits being so jittery.

I’m sure there are different types of electric seat though, that’s just my experience.

[dags]

I’ve found there’s an electric seat and an electric clamp, more like what @endlessclimb describes. Always squeezing the horse like a tube of toothpaste, and eventually it squirts out in front of them.

[dags]

To add to that for the OP, if you tend to “light one up” it’s helpful to pinpoint what your specific trigger is. If it is a heavy, unforgiving seat you’ll need to work on carrying more weight in your upper thigh & less in the saddle… without the clamping. Silky hips & soft knees.

Everything else is time in the saddle. If you’re not already riding at least twice a week you’ll see a big difference just upping to that.

[danhelm441]

You think? I always assumed it was from sitting too heavy and slightly behind the motion.

I would love to know, but I think like so many things, the answer could very well be an opaque “it depends.”

One piece of instruction that really helped me control the canter between jumps in a line was to always think “sit UP and pick UP the reins.” I had this habit of throwing away the reins after the first jump and staying in a half seat. So there, at least on some horses, sitting up and back is the answer?

I definitely need to work on keeping my fingers closed on the reins and keeping shorter reins. I think some of my problem with pace (either getting too much canter or not enough) could be that I am always slipping the reins without realizing it. So I either don’t have enough canter for it to matter, or I get it and immediately let it get away from me. Idk. I’m not sure it’s my issue but I do get told to pick up my reins at least twice per lesson.

And also, I think sometimes I just need to be my own cheerleader and not constantly look for trainer validation, if that’s at all relatable. I get so critical of myself and throw myself a little pity party anytime a lesson doesn’t go well… I think I have a hard time accepting that there is probably just a natural learning curve I’m on, and no magic piece of instruction or perfect lesson is going to instantly make me the rider I wish I could be! I’ve certainly improved my horsemanship a lot since I started, and I’m a better rider than I was a year ago, but it’s hard to keep that in perspective when it’s a situation where, the more you know, the more you know you don’t know.

[CBoylen]

It sounds like you have the “Belmont” form of electric seat, the lean, perch, and freeze (like you are riding a racehorse, poorly). They either run off or they crawl and stop, depending on the horse. This usually comes from a weak lower leg and a lack of understanding on how to use rein contact with leg contact. It takes time and some good flatwork.

[BrownDerby]

Sometimes a hot seat is just the result of tension. Perhaps some stretching and visualization during your warm up may help. You might find Sally Swift’s book, Centered Riding, helpful.

[Mander]

Riding is rife with “false peaks”. If you’ve ever gone hiking up a trail and you think “oh, I can see the top! it’s just up there!” only to climb up there and realize that the “real” peak is a few miles further. Rinse. Repeat.

And so it goes with riding IME. Damn near anyone can get on a smooth packer and w/t/c in a lesson or two and they think “oh so this is all riding is”. And then we ask them to post and push their heels down and sit up straight, maybe do some circles/serpentines and they think “oh so this is all riding is.” And then we ask them to stop bouncing their hands and hold a two-point and maybe bop over a crossrail or two.

Over time, we’ve introduced lateral movement, using your seat and independent use of the aids, and jumping through gymnastics, then related distances, then single fences on a long approach and finally the rider thinks “so THIS is all riding is”…

… and then we give them a faster horse.

FWIW, I think it was probably a decade of riding before I felt pretty confident in my skills on most horses. A lot of that was instructorless, so I’m sure it could be done faster, but it also involved a LOT of bareback riding on an OTTB and I’ve had a few trainers at this point tell me I have the opposite of an electric seat and tend to settle horses down pretty well. Whether that came naturally, or was learned out of necessity to ride said OTTB bareback, who knows

[OfCourseItsAnAlter]

I started riding at 9 or 10. Lessons + my own ponies/horses + riding all over the countryside in a Pony Girl gang. I don’t think I became a truly good rider until I was in college. It takes a combination of time in the saddle plus education (books, classes, clinics, and such).

Check out Denny Emerson’s book, “How Good Riders Get Good: Daily Choices that Lead to Success in Any Equestrian Sport.”

[IPEsq]

To answer your question, for some people it is somewhat natural, especially if they start riding as kids. For others, it takes forever. It requires feel which is a mix of controlling your energy, softly adjusting various body parts, and timing.

Your frustration is impacting the energy you project. You may also lack some stability in your base of support, balance, core strength AND flexibility (simultaneously), which creates tension. On the one hand, you need strength. But you also need some looseness/softness. Getting those together as an adult beginner is hard!

I have the opposite of a hot seat, and I am good at recognizing, redirecting, and alleviating anxiety in horses. I can find areas of tension in the horse’s body and encourage them to soften. My timing and accuracy isn’t as good as when I was younger, but aside from those mistakes, horses generally like me because they can stay relaxed.

With a hot seat, even on trained lesson horses, there is a lack of fluidity and relaxation in the communication. I think if you can figure out how to improve that and regulate your pace in a more invisible way, then the rest of it will start to take care of itself. As others have said, there are several position flaws that can contribute to this. But so can your energy, your performance anxiety, your frustration, your struggle to control all of your body parts and keep them soft at the same time, and your breath. These are nuanced skills that are hard to learn as an adult for the first time, and everyone’s timeline is going to be different.

[Impractical_Horsewoman]

It may be as simple as the fact that most beginner lesson horses are chosen for being relatively non-reactive (i.e. slowpokes rather than firecrackers) because no one wants a horse taking off with a beginner during their first few lessons, so you may be overcompensating with your aids. Your own horse may have just learned that was his owner’s way of riding and learned to adapt to your aids.

There’s quite a few suggestions about what causes an electric ass in the thread above, but it’s hard to diagnose just from a description. The simplest suggestion may be to just try doing less. Give a clear aid, wait for a response, and then if there is no response, follow up. But don’t keep giving the aid without giving the horse a chance to respond.

One exercise my current instructor has me do as a warmup before every lesson is just experimenting with how little pressure the horse needs to move forward or respond with a request for an upward transition. I ride dressage, so this is on the flat, but I’m sure aspects of this can be adapted into a jumping lesson as well.

[Mander]

@Impractical_Horsewoman

It may be as simple as the fact that most beginner lesson horses are chosen for being relatively non-reactive

Ooh this is so true too. Sometimes I’ll give a cue that’s so subtle, that in my mind I’m thinking “there’s no way they’ll be able to distinguish what I want from this” and then voila! it happens! But 99% of school horses won’t respond to that style of ride because they’ve been ridden by beginners who don’t have enough skill/strength/balance to give such subtle, meaningful aids. Transitioning from a dead-broke school horse that makes you say “yes, yes, I really am asking you to do something here” to something that just says “OK boss!” has a learning curve.

[173north]

The way to learn to get ‘the best out of most horses’ is just to ride a ton of horses, of all types, for a long time. Watch other people ride. Listen to what they say about their horses. Read! As you develop the skills to ride different horses, then you’ll will start to recognize patterns and similarities between horses and you can say, “okay, time to implement my sluggish horse toolbox, or my sensitive horse toolbox.”

I used to get on horses and find they reminded me of another horse I’d ridden, so I’d play around with what worked with that other horse. Now I can mix and match my tools and skills and ride what’s under me by feel, and unless they’re really quirky or we’re a major mismatch they go pretty well, but that took like, 7 years of regularly riding LOTS of horses under excellent trainers. And I rode as a kid, too. There is so much timing, nuance, and muscle memory involved in riding and it just takes saddle time and experience to develop those.

It reminds me sometimes of driving. When you first started to drive you had to seriously THINK about everything and break it down into little steps. Now you do most of it on auto-pilot. You don’t have to tell yourself to put on your turn signal, you just do it. Eventually you will reach a point where you don’t have actively think about, say, half-halting to organize before a transition. You just do it. And there’s stuff that will NEVER become automatic, too, because we are all different and this is a hilariously hard and complex sport.

[Jackie_Cochran]

I have been riding horses for over 50 years. I have trained my own horses from weanlings and retrained a few ruined horses.

I am STILL learning how to ride better. Each horse is different, has different sensitivities, different training, and different reactions to riders.

I imagine that if I ride the day before I die (I’m 70) that the horse I ride will teach me how to do something better than I did before.

Riding horses–you never stop learning.

Give yourself a break. The more you ride, the more horses you ride, and the more you really LISTEN to your horse the better you will be. Riding horses is a gift that keeps on giving.

[Janet]

@danhelm441

I see horses staying steady, straight and rhythmic for other riders, then the next week when I’m on that horse, we’re either too fast or too slow,

Most horses, even school horses, “adjust” their sensitivity to the skill of the rider.
If the rider’s legs stay very still, except when the rider is giving an actual aid, the horse will respond to a very “light” subtle aid. But if the rider’s legs are moving around (because the rider has not yet learned to keep them still), the horse will assume that any light aids are more just “legs moving meaninglessly”, and will ignore then. They will only respond to a very strong aid. Same with hands/reins. Same with weight, balance, seat, etc.

“What it takes to get the best out of most horses” is to make sure you are ONLY giving intentional aids, and not giving unintentional aids.

It is simple, but it definitely isn’t easy.

[Jackie_Cochran]

And it is not just giving a light aid, that aid will not work immediately if it is at the wrong time in the horse’s stride. As I learned to time my aids properly I was able to make my aids lighter and I had to repeat them less.

A light aid at the right time gives me my best results.

[Trekkie]

I wrote this little note awhile ago but I feel like it applies to the OP’s struggles, as well as a lot of life struggles as well.

The definition of amateur frames the idea of engaging in an activity on an unpaid basis, originally mostly sport. The word stems from the Latin and the romance language derivatives for love. Implied is that the participation without payment meant a love for what one was doing. Under current usage amateur has come to mean a certain ineptitude or lack of knowledge surrounding the activity. However, we truly are all amateurs when it comes to most activities and pursuits in life. Even the most professional of us still can’t possibly know all that there is to know about a given subject. Most of us, be it parenting, plumbing, pet ownership, sporting activity, or even our jobs are somewhere on the “amateur” continuum, doing the best we can without much expert knowledge. We rely on advice, some good and some bad, and we often cannot even distinguish between the two due to our inexperience. Malcolm Gladwell wrote in one of his books it takes 10,000 hours to begin to become an “expert” at some activity. That means over one continuous year of doing that activity non-stop. Many of us do not ever get close to reaching that level of participation in any activity or pursuit. Even things that seem more time consuming are really not. Take parenting, for example. How many hours a day are people actively engaged in parenting activities with their child? Four, five, six? Even if we spent six hours a day actively engaging with our child, it would take five years to reach the 10,000 hour mark. Experience alone does not an expert make. It takes coached experience, educated experience. Who coaches most parents? Even if one felt adequate with parenting a 5 year old, that is very different than parenting an adolescent. Most people do not spend six hours a day for five years straight actively parenting their children with coached feedback. By Gladwells’s estimation this makes most first-time parents hopelessly amateur. It is almost miraculous that our children can navigate this complex world with any degree of understanding at all. No wonder so many people are screwed up. Real consequences occur when living things are raised and cared for, nurtured and educated by real amateurs. Here I use the term loosely, implying ineptitude. And yet, most of us fall into that category. We fall into that category when we make decisions about the planet and we are not a scientist who studies it. We fall into it when we are not students of history and sociology and we try to determine foreign policy for our country. We fall into it when we own an animal and we know nothing about the behavior or interaction of these creatures and we attempt to integrate them into our lives. And yet, we have no option but to do our best and carry on. The best we can do, friends, is to keep learning. Take responsibility for our ignorance and amateur status and keep learning. Not one of us on this earth has a tiny fraction of our collective knowledge. And that knowledge is always changing and growing. So be a knowledge seeker, not a destroyer. Be an observer. Listen. Read–not just opinion but facts, evidence, anecdotes. Evaluate feedback loops and change. Seek out mentors and coaches who are trusted seekers of knowledge themselves. Be your own coach and mentor. Be honest with yourself about what works and what does not. Life is a grand gift for a lucky bunch. Appreciate and approach it like a true amateur–with passion and love.